


Still as Stone, Silent as the Blade

by Tigerkid14



Series: Kinktober 2017 [4]
Category: Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub Play, F/F, Kinky, Knives, Orgasm Control, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:46:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigerkid14/pseuds/Tigerkid14
Summary: Kinktober 2017, prompt: knife play





	Still as Stone, Silent as the Blade

“Stay very still for me, Nikita.” Amanda’s quiet voice came out of the darkness that enshrouded Nikita’s vision.

“Yes, Amanda.” Nikita obediently replied, resisting the urge to tilt her head, following the sound of Amanda’s footsteps as the woman circled her, arms tied and secured to a hook in the ceiling, blindfold preventing her from watching whatever it was that Amanda did.

She heard Amanda step away and then the sound of something sliding off a table before the footsteps returned, so she knew Amanda must have picked something up.

“If you don’t stay still, you may be hurt in ways that I don’t intend, and that would displease me greatly. I don’t want you hurt except in the exact ways I want to hurt you. Do you understand?” Amanda asked, now close enough to breathe the question into her ear.

“Yes, Amanda.” Nikita murmured reverently, inhaling the sweet scent of Amanda’s perfume filling her nostrils.

She was unprepared for the swish-click sound of a switchblade opening next to her ear, but it was Amanda’s hand caressing her breast that made her jump.

“What did I just say?” There was a hint of amusement underlying the steel of the question.

“Very--ugh” Nikita grunted as Amanda’s fingers pinched her nipple hard. “Very still, Amanda.”

“That’s right.” Amanda released the nipple. “Very, very still.”

The back of the blade made contact with Nikita’s cheek, cool and dull, pressing against her skin and trailing from cheekbone down to chin.

She froze and did her best to obey her instructions.

Then the point of the knife, delicate and sharp, traced lightly down her neck, coming to her chest where it made tantalizing patterns over her breasts, circling her nipples, softly, with just enough pressure for her to feel the deadly sharpness of it, but not so much that it did more than leave red scratches in its wake.

Eventually it moved lower, moving over the soft skin of her stomach, languidly circling, scratching, occasionally pressing, not hard enough to puncture skin, but hard enough for her tighten her muscles, tensing as she tried so very hard to stay perfectly still, even as all her senses strained to follow the sounds of Amanda’s steps, the scent of her perfume, the warmth of her body as she pressed in close with the blade she held.

It was both a relief and a devastation when Amanda stepped away, taking the knife with her, and Nikita was able to relax infinitesimally, waiting for the next step in their dance.

She moaned out loud when Amanda’s hand slid between her legs, fingers gliding effortlessly through the wetness there, breathing harder as, for a moment, her clit was gently circled, then moaning louder when those same fingers pinched hard, only the rope encircling her wrists and still attached to the ceiling keeping her upright as her knees buckled against the pain and pleasure of it.

Amanda instantly stepped back, removing her hand and tsking in disappointment. “That is not staying still, Nikita.”

Nikita found her balance again, standing back in the position she had started. “I’m sorry, Amanda.” She managed to gasp.

“Perhaps you need special incentive, mmm?”

And then the knife, the knife that Nikita had temporarily forgotten about, was pressed, pressing, between her legs, that very sharp, dangerous tip just grazing against Nikita’s clit, and she froze. She froze with such intensity that not even her tired, overworked muscles could dare to tremble, her entire being focused entirely on the knife between her legs, and Amanda’s body pressed up against her own.

They held the tableau for five seconds, maybe ten; it felt like an eternity to Nikita, bound and still and aching with the desire to cum, knowing she could not have release from any of these conditions without Amanda’s permission.

Then the knife disappeared. She had no idea where it went but it didn’t matter because Amanda’s hand was back, touching the place where the knife had just been, rubbing and circling and her fingers were like heaven to Nikita, who stayed as still as she possibly could in the face of such provocation.

Eventually, though her body stayed as still as a stone, her mouth moved. She began to beg, desperate for relief, desperate for permission to obtain that relief, and still Amanda’s fingers moved, holding her at the edge of the peak she desired.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” the words began to run together, almost unintelligible in her need to ask, to garble them out, a continuous flow of begging.

She was so focused on the sensation between her legs and the litany chant of pleading that she almost missed the question, asked in a voice that was low and intense, “Please what, Nikita?”

It took her a moment to process, to understand what the question meant, what the questioner wanted from her, what she was supposed to do, but when the answer arrived, she immediately blurted out, “Please may I cum, Mistress?”

The answer was measured and steady, given in its owner’s time, exactly as she wanted it.

“You may.”

Nikita exploded, pleasure flooding her body and overriding her senses, her control, even her obedience, and when she returned to herself, it was to the sensation of being lowered, as Amanda went to the controls for the winch, slowly easing Nikita down until she was kneeling on the floor.

Then Amanda gathered Nikita to her, holding their bodies together as she gently undid the rope binding Nikita’s arms and wrists together, massaging the marks left on the skin, running gentle hands over scratch marks on her chest and stomach, helping her remove the blindfold, and providing reassurance through touch, until Nikita’s breathing evened out and the trembling had nearly stopped.

It was on the way to the bed that Nikita saw the side table where Amanda had laid out the knife. There was a laminated business card next to it that appeared to have a faint sheen of fluid on it.

She looked questioningly at Amanda, who smiled, pleased with her deception.

“An old trick. Even as well trained as you are, I wouldn’t want to risk damaging you. You didn’t know the difference. And it won’t make a difference in the future either, since, as you are well aware, I may change my mind and use the knife anyway.

“Now, I believe you still need to thank me for your orgasm.” And she finished steering Nikita to the bed, where she was very thankful indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who are unaware, if your partner is blindfolded, or otherwise cannot see what you are doing, you can substitute something with a sharp-ish corner for an actual knife. Use a business card, or even the edge of a credit card, and to the person feeling the sensation, it feels very much the same, which gives you a *safer* way to get the same sensations with *reduced* risk.
> 
> A laminated business card was used here in order to keep the corner feeling sharp even after it got wet. *grins*
> 
> Please educate yourself on your kinky things before undertaking them, play responsibly and as safe as you can.


End file.
